CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
A COMPLETE ECLAIRCISSEMENT.
"Mademoiselle's game is up. You see, Sabrina, I was right, and he'sloyal to his love--true to the _guage_ of the egret's plume."
"Indeed, yes! What a tale for Vaga! And I shall tell it her soon."
"'Twill gladden her, you think?"
"I'm quite sure of it. Though I haven't evidence of her heart'sinclinings in speech plain as that we've just--Hish! Another couplecoming this way! Really, Richard, we ought not to stay here; 'tis badas being eaves-droppers."
"Never mind about the eavesdropping. It will sit light on myconscience, after leading to such good results. Who may be the pairapproaching now, I wonder?"
They listened. To hear music, with the hum of many voices afar off; buttwo near, and drawing nearer.
"My sister!" said Sabrina, almost instantly recognising one of them;then, after another brief interval of silence, adding, "and ReginaldTrevor!"
Continuing to advance, the two were soon up to the pavilion; and madestop, on the same spot where but five minutes before stood theirrespective cousins.
Now, however, it was the gentleman who spoke first--after their comingto a stand--and as if changing the subject of the dialogue already inprogress.
"My cousin Eust seems beside himself with Mademoiselle Lalande. I neversaw man so madly in love with a woman. I wonder if she reciprocatesit?"
He was pouring gall into Vaga Powell's heart, and apparently withoutbeing conscious of it. For, by this, he had reached full confidencethat his own love was reciprocated by her with whom he was conversing.
"Like enough," was the response, in tones so despairingly sad, that, butfor his being a fool in his own conceit, he might have drawn deductionsfrom it to make him suspect his folly. More, could he have but seen theexpression upon her features at that moment--pain, almost agony. Thepantomimic dance--just over, all its acts, incidents, and gestures werestill fresh before her mind--the latest the most vivid--the dropping ofthe glove; its being taken up, as she supposed, with eager alacrity;then, the man she loved throwing wide open his arms to receive into themthe woman she hated! All this was in her thoughts, a very tumult oftrouble--in her heart as a flaming fire.
The darkness favoured her, or Reginald Trevor could not have failedperceiving it on her face. But, indeed, she would have little cared ifhe had. Dissembling with him all the night, she meant doing so no more.Though the play was not with him, the game had gone against her; shehad lost the stakes, as she supposed, irretrievably; and now wouldretire into the shadow and bitterness of solitude.
Little dreamt he of how she was suffering, or the cause. Knowing it, hemight have sprung away from her side, quickly and angrily as hadClarisse from that of Eustace.
Continuing the conversation, he said, insinuatingly,--
"On second thoughts, I'm wrong, Mistress Vaga. I _have_ known a man asmuch in love with a woman as my cousin is with yours--know one now?"
"Indeed?"
The exclamatory rejoinder was purely mechanical, she who made it nothaving enough interest in what had been said to inquire who was theindividual he alluded to. Yet this was the very question he courted.He had to angle for it further, saying,--
"May I tell you who it is?"
"_Oh_, certainly; if you desire to do so."
Even this icy response failed to check him. He either did not perceiveits coldness, or mistook it for reticence due to the occasion. Severaltimes, since his first abortive attempt, he had been on the eve ofmaking fuller declaration to her--in short, a proposal of marriage. Butshe had been dancing with others besides himself, and no goodopportunity had as yet offered. That seemed to have come now. So,taking advantage of it, and her permission, he said, in an impressiveway,--
"The man is Reginald Trevor--myself."
If he expected her to give a start of feigned surprise, and follow it upby the inquiry, "Who is the woman?" he was disappointed. For he butheard repeated the laconic exclamation she had already used, and in liketones of careless indifference.
"Indeed!" That, and nothing more.
Still unrepulsed he returned to the attack; again, as it were, beggingthe question,--
"Shall I name the woman?"
"Not if you don't wish it, sir." Response that should have made himwithhold the information, if not driven him from her presence. A veryrebuff it was; and yet Reginald Trevor looked not on it in this light.Instead, still strong in his false faith and foolish hope, he persisted,saying,--
"But I do wish it, and will tell you; though you may little care toknow. I cannot help the confession. She I love is yourself--yourself,Vaga Powell; and 'tis with all my heart, all my soul!" The avowal, fulland passionate, affected her no more than the hints he had alreadythrown out. In the same calm tone, firm, and with the words measured,she made response,--
"Captain Trevor, you've told me almost as much before. And if I nevergave you answer to say the feeling you profess for me was notreciprocated, I say it now. It is not--never can be. Friends, if youwish, let us remain; but for the other--"
"You needn't go on!" he interrupted, impatiently, almost rudely. "I'veheard enough; and now know what's the obstacle between us. Not yourfather, as I once supposed, but my cousin. Well, have him, if you canget him. As for myself, I'm consoled by thinking there are as good fishin the sea as ever were caught out of it, and I go to catch one of them.Adieu, Mistress Vaga Powell!" Saying which, he strode off in trueCavalier swagger, humming a gay _chanson_; having left her alone in thedarkness of night, and the gloom of despair.
Only for an instant was she thus. Then she felt arms flung around her,tenderly, lovingly, while listening to speech which promised to relieveher of her misery.
"I was so glad, Vag," said Sabrina, "hearing what you said. And I'veheard something said by another, at which you'll be glad, when I tell ityou."
Almost at the same instant of time, though in a different part of thegrounds, Sir Richard Walwyn was in like manner promising to let lightinto the heart of Eustace Trevor.